


and i whisper (sing it back to you)

by ariya167



Category: Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: Angst, Canon Compliant, F/F, First Kiss, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Torture, Post-Star Wars: The Phantom Menace, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-20
Updated: 2019-03-20
Packaged: 2019-11-26 07:31:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,045
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18177707
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ariya167/pseuds/ariya167
Summary: Saché, Yané, and the aftermath of the Trade Federation blockade.





	and i whisper (sing it back to you)

Saché’s rooms in the palace were nearly void of light, with heavy curtains drawn tightly against the windows and the few candledroids on the walls had been shut down. Yané slipped inside like a shadow in her dark green cloak, carrying a tray of soup and bread and hot tea. 

Saché had droids and maids taking care of her, of course, but Yané would not leave her alone again. Not after what happened.

“Yané?” Saché called out, sitting half-up in bed. Her sleeves were long, covering bandages and the still-healing wounds underneath, but Yané’s heart ached just knowing they were there. 

“It’s me,” she answered, setting the tray down on a table, and, with a lack of anything else to do, hovered awkwardly by Saché’s side. 

“It’s good to see you,” Saché said, and tried to smile. “Sit down, please.”

As Yané sat, Saché switched on a small candledroid resting on her bedside table. Warm, golden light swept across the room, illuminating the hollows of her face. There were more of them than Yané remembered, from the days of starving in the Trade Federation camps, and what the Neimoidians had done to her. 

“It’s good to see you too,” Yané answered, then remembered the food she’d brought. “Are you hungry?”

“No, that’s all right,” Saché smiled, a realer one this time. “I prefer just talking, anyways.”

Yané bit back a comment about how she should be eating anyways, to get her strength up. It wasn’t her place to mother Saché, or to stand over her bed and fret, as much as she wanted to do that. She needed to be a friend, not a caregiver.

“Alright,” she acquiesced, and turned her head to look more fully at Saché. The low light was very flattering, highlighting her high cheekbones and the way her hair swept back from her forehead. Without meaning to, Yané blushed. 

“What are you thinking about?” Saché asked. 

“You,” Yané said, and almost regretted it, except that Saché had grinned, wide and bright, in a way she had not done since the first Trade Federation ships were spotted over Naboo. Yané had missed that grin, almost without realizing it. 

“Really?”

“Yes, really,” Yané shot back, and softened. “I’m thinking about how brave you are. And how selfless, and how fierce, and how funny even if you won’t admit it.”

Some time during the conversation, Yané had moved from her awkward perch on the edge of the bed, to nearly lying next to Saché, their faces inches apart. She swallowed, hard, and moved back.

“I missed you,” Saché confessed, smiling sadly. “The medical droids aren’t good company.”

“I’ve just been so busy-” Yané started to say, and that was true, even if it was no excuse not to visit her best friend, but Saché shook her head.

“You’re here now,” she said. “And that’s all that matters.” 

Yané smiled, resting her chin in her hands. It was strange how often this was happening-she’d look at Saché, and suddenly she’d be Looking at her, taking in the slope of her nose, the colour of her eyes, the thickness of her hair. It wasn’t a bad thing, certainly, but she wasn’t quite sure it was a good thing, either. 

“Still thinking about me?” Saché asked, laughing. 

“Always,” Yané said, like it was a joke, even though it was very close to the truth. “Are you thinking about me?”

“Yes,” Saché answered, and flutters echoed in Yané’s stomach. “I’m thinking about how kind you are, always, and how you can’t walk by anyone who needs help, and how smart you are, even if you don’t always believe it.” 

“Flatterer,” Yané said, to disguise the warmth blooming in her cheeks. 

“I’m serious!” Saché said, and laughed again, before her eyes softened. “Thank you, for coming to see me.”

“Of course,” Yané replied quietly, unwilling to break the sudden solemnity that had surrounded them. “I . . . I wish you hadn’t done it. I wish . . . I wish you’d stayed safe.”

Saché blinked, and Yané froze, certain she was about to snap at her for being selfish, or ungrateful, but when she spoke, her voice was gentle. 

“I don’t,” she said, and smiled a little, ruefully. “I would do it a hundred times, and a hundred times more, if it meant I could save even one more of our people.” 

“I know,” Yané whispered, and then: “I would have done the same.”

Saché’s hand reached out, cradling the side of her face, gently stroking her cheek. “I’m glad you didn’t,” she said, and though her voice was quiet, it burned with a sudden fierceness. “The Trade Federation may have tortured me, but I could never have lost you.”

“Now you know how I feel,” Yané said, and though she tried to make it sound like a joke, her voice shook, and she could not hide the tears glimmering in her eyes. 

Saché smiled sadly, tipping her head forward to rest it against Yané’s. “That I do,” she murmured. “That I do.” 

They stayed like that for a long time, not daring to move, until all Yané could hear was the soft sounds of Saché’s breathing, and the beating of her own heart. 

“I love you,” she said, before she could stop herself, before she could hesitate or give up or back down. 

Saché moved back, staring at her, and Yané slumped. 

But then Saché was smiling, wide and warm and bright. “I love you too, Yané. Of course I do.” 

Yané smiled back, a little shaky, but just as bright. Then she bit her lip, hesitating. “Can . . . Can I kiss you?” 

If Saché was surprised, she didn’t show it. She leaned forward, just a few inches, and gently pressed her lips to Yané’s. 

Her skin was soft and warm, and Yané’s hand found her cheek, cradling it as she pressed further into the kiss. 

Her hood fell back, exposing the beautiful hairstyle Rabé had chosen that was already falling apart. Saché just giggled, carding her fingers through her curls as they fell back in bed. 

“I missed you,” Yané said when they broke apart, still cradling Saché’s cheek. “I always miss you.” 

“Then we’ll just have to stick together, won’t we?” Saché said, and Yané laughed, drawing her in for another kiss.


End file.
